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Chapter 16
Sarah, 16 years old
San Diego, California
Igot home at around midnight, only to find all the lights still on.
My shoulders drooped because despite my earlier anger with Ghost, I was grateful to my mentor for everything he’s ever done for me and didn’t like it when we fought.
I was about to turn on the knob when the door opened, and a Guild soldier stood on the threshold.
“Who are you?” I asked a second before he showed me the insignia on his uniform.
This man was one of Commander Moore’s personal guard, and it made me wonder what he was doing here.
“Sarah!” my foster mother cried out in fright from all the way inside.
I pushed the man aside and ran to the living room, only to halt at the sight before me. Five soldiers had a gun on my legal guardians.
Connie was holding on to her husband while he laid on the floor beat up to hell and back. Ghost had a protruding left radius, a broken nose, and periorbital hematomas that made it impossible for him to see.
In the middle of all this chaos was a big blond in his mid-twenties.
“What have you done?” I shouted and tried to go to them, only to be stopped by one of Hayes’ men.
“Where were you tonight, Initiate Murdoch?” the Butcher probed.
“It’s none of your business.”
“I’m the Head Chief of the Initiates, and everything about you is my business. So, kindly answer my question.”
After Ghost refused his promotion, it went to the second most senior instructor at the Academy, Jacob Hayes, who whipped the next generation of soldiers into shape.
Sadly, his additional responsibilities hadn’t erased his obsession with me or enhanced his sunny disposition. It just turned him into a tyrant.
“Not until you tell me what you did to Team Leader Sinclair and his wife.”
“Them? Nothing. I politely asked him where you were, and he wouldn’t answer, so I had to persuade him to cooperate,” Hayes sneered, making Connie cry at that statement.
“To be honest, it didn’t even take that much to break him. I’m disappointed. The boogeyman got soft in his old age. Who would have thought?” the man wiped his hands on a towel. “My turn. Where were you?”
“I was with a friend.”
“You don’t have any friends. Was it a boyfriend?” he prodded calmly, and the men in the room looked at each other with unease.
The commander’s men tried to understand what was going on, but couldn’t because none of them spoke crazy.
“Why are you here?” I asked a question of my own instead of answering him to defuse a highly volatile situation.
“The Commander wishes to speak with you,” a soldier answered in Hayes’ stead.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“Couldn’t it have waited until tomorrow? What could be so urgent?”
“It is not our place to question the Commander,” the soldier rigidly replied.
